


Lost Marbles

by SailorChibi



Series: wanda's curse verse [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Bittersweet Ending, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ignores Civil War, Minor Original Character, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Wanda Friendly, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Protective Laura Barton, Protective Phil Coulson, Psychological issues, Sam Wilson Needs a Hug, Talk of Mind Control, Thoughts of revenge, Unintentional Mind Control, and possibly a psychopath, author is not a psychologist, author is not a therapist, author is not trained in mind matters, clint barton is in denial, deliberate mind control, discussions around mind control and its long last effects, handwavy psychology, if you like wanda do not read this, natasha romanov has left the building, no infinity wars spoilers, phil coulson is done with this shit, sam wilson is not here to be your therapist, sometimes not everything can be fixed, stephen strange is done with young witches who don't know what the hell they're doing, steve rogers doesn't know what to do anymore, steve rogers mourns the good old days, talk of brainwashing, the barton family loves tony, though i will try to be realistic as i can, though there isn't comfort for everyone, very wanda critical, wanda maximoff hates tony stark, wanda maximoff is a sociopath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-26 05:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: After making sure that Wanda's powers are well and truly bound, Phil, Laura and Dr. Strange try to figure out what's wrong with Clint.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Someone commissioned me for a fourth part in this verse before I'd even finished the first fic. You guys are too funny. Title is courtesy of my friend [youknowhoiam-xx](http://youknowhoiam-xx.tumblr.com/) who I think meant it as a joke, except I took them seriously.

_"How do you feel about the fact that the Fantastic Four had to save you?"_

_"They didn't save us.”_

_"It seems the Avengers were down two team members. Can you explain why the Fantastic Four was called in instead?"_

_"They weren't called in, they came to help deal with their enemy.”_

_"Where is the rest of your team?"_

_"War Machine was called away because of other commitments. And effective immediately, the Scarlet Witch is no longer an Avenger."_

As Wanda processed the words, she was aware of eyes turning in her direction. Her skin prickled with the force of their stares and, had she possessed her magic, she would’ve _given_ them something to look at. A nightmare, perhaps: something really damaging that was dug out of the deepest depths of their psyches and which would haunt them for weeks to come. Her fingers itched with the urge to follow through on the threat.

Keeping her face expressionless, she continued to watch the news. The journalist who’d been asking the question was so surprised that they stopped speaking, giving Captain America the opportunity to slip away. His back, adorned with the familiar silver star and straps to hold the shield in place, filled the camera for a split second before the screen was overtaken by two news anchors.

They weren’t happy, of course. This was breaking news so they didn’t have any other information, but that didn’t stop them from speculating about where War Machine was and why the Scarlet Witch wasn’t an Avenger anymore. The theory that War Machine had been called away by the military couldn’t be mocked – everyone knew that Colonel James Rhodes’s first love would always be the military – but the theories about the Scarlet Witch were infuriating.

The Scarlet Witch had _run away_? Defected? That was the most popular theory, and her rage knew no bounds. Wanda had found her team, and she would have stuck with them until the end. The Avengers were the ones who had decided that they no longer wanted her. But even that slight was tolerable… until they started discussing Iron Man’s departure from the team and saying that the Avengers had been going downhill since he’d left. 

That was an insult Wanda couldn’t abide.

She stood up and stalked out, ignoring the whispers that sprang up in her wake. Bunch of gossiping teenagers, that was the definition of the Xavier Institute. Within a day of Wanda being at the mansion, everyone had known exactly why and how she’d gotten there. They also knew that her powers were locked away. It was mortifying. Watching all of them use their own powers, knowing that her own were so much _better_ …

Someday, she would show them. She would show everyone who thought that Wanda Maximoff was a child who could be pushed around. Once she got her powers back, she would be unstoppable. Strange didn’t know what he was talking about. Wanda had _perfect_ control. Her powers always did what she wanted them to, especially once she was out of Hydra’s grasp.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. When Wanda had first arrived at the compound, she’d been confused and lost and grieving. Without Pietro, the world was off-kilter and she’d lost a little bit of control. Not all the way – she was proud to say the compound would’ve been leveled had that occurred – but just enough to influence the people around her and exude a shadow of hatred over their opinion on Tony Stark.

But then, even when she’d figured out how to regain control, she hadn’t stopped. In spite of what she’d told Steve, Wanda wasn’t ashamed to admit that she’d realized what she was doing and had deliberately decided not to do anything about it. It wasn’t her fault the Avengers as a whole were susceptible to being influenced. If they were better at ignoring or defending themselves against unconscious telepathy, this whole situation could have been avoided.

Besides, nothing bad had happened. So what if the Avengers began to hate Stark? As far as Wanda was concerned, it was no less than what a monster like Stark deserved. He’d murdered her parents and the robot he’d built had murdered her dear brother. Stark had taken everything from her and never paid an ounce of reparation, so why couldn’t she take everything from him?

It was unfortunate that she hadn’t anticipated Stark receiving help from outside forces. Wanda had never known someone like Dr. Stephen Strange. Hydra had been fascinated with her magic, leading her to believe that magic was something new to Earth as a whole. As it turned out, that wasn’t the case. Had she known, she could’ve better protected herself. Instead, Strange had gotten the jump on her.

And now when Wanda lifted her hand, or tried to reach out unthinkingly, it was like running into a brick wall that sprang up from nowhere. She couldn’t even feel her powers on the other side. It had occurred to her, once or twice, that maybe Strange hadn’t just bound them, but had found a way to remove them. The thought was so chilling that she refused to dwell on it, instead opting to believe that there was a way to get her powers back.

Even if it meant pretending. Even if it meant playing nice with Strange and Xavier and all the other children she was forced to deal with on a regular basis. Xavier had told her, on her second day here, that he had consciously learned how to _not_ pry. He’d said it with a pointed tone, as though there was some meaning he wanted her to divulge, which was ridiculous. If he wanted to limit himself, so be it. When she had her powers, Wanda dipped freely into any mind she chose. It was her due. Anyone who didn’t want that would have learned to protect themselves.

But she took Xavier’s little speech to mean that he wasn’t monitoring her thoughts. Wanda was free to think however she liked, and, so long as she could act convincingly enough, she would earn her powers back. And then she could _really_ do some damage. Her fingers flexed with glee, imagining the look of terror she would paint across Stark’s face. She would torture him slowly, piling up nightmares and hallucinations, until his heart gave out from stress.

“Ms. Maximoff?”

Wanda turned quickly, startled. She’d been lost in a delicious fantasy where Stark begged her for mercy, and hadn’t noticed the approach of one of Xavier’s lackies, Jean Grey. For once, Wanda didn’t have to force a smile or a congenial tone. With her brain still hyped on images of Stark on his knees, she was able to smile genuinely. Perhaps that was the secret to being a better actor.

“What can I do for you, Ms. Grey?” she asked – pleasantly enough, she thought. In truth, Wanda didn’t think much of Grey. She’d heard the stories of how Grey was amongst the first to come to the Xavier Institute, in tears and terrified because of how objects moved around her and voices whispered in her brain, and required years of training to get a firm grasp on her power.

Ridiculous. Wanda had _taken charge_ of her powers. Within six months to a year, she knew enough of the human brain to know exactly how to find someone’s deepest fear. She could plant false images in someone’s head or force them to bend to her will. She could move any object she wanted and throw it miles away, or create force fields capable of suffocating someone. Her control was so fine she could even fly. 

Yet this Grey woman stood here with a bland smile on her face, so clearly thinking that she was better than Wanda. All because she had obtained her powers in a different way – by birth, as though that were any better than being seen as worthy by Hydra’s scepter where so many others had died – even though Grey still struggled with control years later. Wanda could hardly wait to prove her wrong.

“The professor would like a word with you,” Grey said. “I also wanted to make sure that you were okay. I know that it was formally announced that you were no longer an Avenger.”

“I would hardly call that formal,” Wanda said. Now that her immediate fury had subsided, she could almost feel a flicker of pity for Steve and how poorly he’d handled the interview. Clearly he had been much better off under Wanda’s influence. 

“Regardless, the world still knows,” Grey said calmly. “I imagine there will be some press conferences in the near future to help smooth things over.”

Wanda looked up at her, intrigued. “Is that something I have the option of doing?”

“What? A press conference?”

“Yes. I could tell my side of the story.” The public couldn’t be that difficult to persuade. Stark had them eating out of his hand often enough. She might not have her powers, but she was still young enough to make people think twice about disregarding her outright. 

Grey half-smiled, a funny look in her eyes. “ _Your_ side of the story? Ms. Maximoff, right now there is no story. No reasons have been given for your departure from the team. You are exceedingly fortunate that Captain America or Iron Man hasn’t told anyone the truth. They still might.”

“Which is why it makes sense for me to tell it first! Before Stark twists everything and tries to make me look like the bad guy.”

“You can talk it over with Professor Xavier.”

“Why bother? I know what he’ll say,” Wanda said, fuming. They were determined to restrict her movements here and prevent her from doing anything. Had it not been for the lure of her powers, she would’ve left the first night. She was twenty-two and legally an adult. They couldn’t hold her here the way they could a child.

She still might. It had crossed her mind once or twice. If she knew where the scepter was now, she wouldn’t stay. She’d throw herself on the mercy of the scepter’s magic a second time before lowering herself to staying here any longer. Or if she could figure out some way to defeat Strange. She’d been doing some research, but pitifully little was known about magic to anyone willing to answer her questions.

Grey ignored that last comment, as Wanda had known she would, and turned to walk back down the hallway with an air of expectancy. Swallowing a fresh burst of rage, Wanda followed. She knew the way to Xavier’s office well enough now, but Grey accompanied her the whole way. Grey went so far as to open the door and wait for Wanda to enter before closing it and, presumably, departing.

Wanda tensed as soon as she was inside. “What is this? Come to take more from me?” she demanded, glancing between Xavier and Strange.

“No,” Strange said. “I came to make sure that I didn’t miss anything the first time.”

She took an instinctive step back, but there was no escaping the orange sparks that leapt from his fingers. They burned where they landed on her bare skin; Wanda refused to show pain, bearing the sting in stoic silence. The sparks vanished quickly, leaving an oily residue that made her feel as though she needed an immediate shower, just as they had the first night she’d been here.

“Satisfied?” she snapped. “I have nothing.”

Strange didn’t rise to the bait, merely looking thoughtfully into the distance, as though Wanda were so far beneath his concern that she no longer registered on the scale. She clenched her hands into fists, flush with the desire to force him to pay attention to her in some way – to mark her as a threat, not a child to be dismissed. More than anything, Wanda loathed being ignored.

The silence stretched until at last, Strange sighed. “I’ll see you later, Charles,” he said. More orange sparks formed a portal through which he stepped, leaving Wanda and Xavier alone.

“What the hell was that?” Wanda hissed, glowering at Xavier, _daring_ him to ignore her.

Xavier met her gaze evenly. “Dr. Strange needed to check something. We appreciate your cooperation. Thank you, Wanda. Have a good night.”

Check something? Check what? Wanda stared him down, but he did not cave to pressure. Someone else knocked at the door and then opened it – Summers, this time. Wanda opted to leave rather than be trapped with the two of them, her mind working furiously. What could have happened that Strange would feel the need to check and see that she had no magic? It couldn’t have been something Wanda had done recently. Her mind leapt to the only obvious conclusion.

Did one of the Avengers still believe in the shadow she had spun around them? Her influence may have been gone, but the human brain was pitiful in all its limitations. She had not thought that she’d damaged one of the Avengers so badly, but if she had… she paused in the middle of the hallway and smiled slowly, delighted by the thought. If that were the case, perhaps she had some options left to her after all.


	2. Chapter 2

The compound felt strangely empty now, even though it was still filled with SHIELD agents. The only people who had left were Colonel James Rhodes and Natasha. She didn't know enough about the former to know whether that was an out of character move, but she had been friends with Natasha for _years_. Ever since Hawkeye and the Black Widow had first partnered, long before Cooper was even a thought in the back of Laura's head: from the day that Clint had led a wary, jittery redhead up the steps of the farmhouse, they'd been friends. 

She couldn't blame Natasha for leaving now, and she hadn't been surprised when Natasha had crept into her room to let her know. In fact, Laura had been wondering when that would happen. Natasha's way of handling things had always been to pull back and regroup in private, where no one else could see her weakness. She figured that Natasha would show up again in a few months, probably looking completely different, with a dozen new safehouses, bank accounts, and identities stored away for the next time something went wrong. Sometimes she didn't know how Natasha kept it all straight. 

Laura might've left too had the option been open to her. She wouldn't run away, though she was positive that either Phil or Tony Stark would happily pay for her and the kids to start a new life somewhere. But the thought of going back to her kids and pretending that all of this wasn't happening, leaving it up to Phil to figure out what was going on, was much more tempting than it should've been. It was only the promise she'd made to herself, that she would find out once and for all whether or not her marriage could be saved, that kept her from leaving. She didn't want to go back to Cooper and Lila without some answers, and she refused to stick her head in the sand hide from the truth. Before coming to the compound, she'd promised herself that she would accept whatever answer she was given, if only so that she and the kids could really move on.

Well, she and the kids and Natasha and Phil. A small smile crossed her face at the thought of her other husband. It wasn't legal, of course, but that had never stopped any of them, and she'd thought of him that way for years now. It had been Phil's suggestion that she and Clint be the ones to get married, as Phil was high enough in the SHIELD ranks that a wife or husband or both was more of a liability than anything. They'd kept their relationship under wraps for years, with Clint and Phil acting like nothing more than handler-and-agent when they were at work. Only Natasha and Director Fury had known.

Phil's death had been a devastating blow. Finding out that he was alive again was like a breath of fresh air. She'd been angry that he'd hid the truth for so long, because she and Clint and the kids would've wanted to be there while he was healing. They'd mourned him, and buried him, and that wasn't something she could easily forgive. It was something that they were still working through, though at the moment those conversations had been stalled and eclipsed by everything else that was going on.

Her smile faded at that. Clint hadn't reacted the way she thought he would, the way everyone else had. Instead of getting mad at Maximoff, he'd persisted in believing that Tony had somehow done something to the rest of them to make them think that Maximoff was the bad guy. It was utter nonsense. Tony didn't have that kind of power. Probably Strange did, but Phil had been the one to reach out to him, not Tony. No amount of explaining that or anything else had been enough to sway Clint's opinion, though. He continued to look at them, at her, like they were strangers.

That was why Strange was coming here today. Phil had contacted him again, and Strange had promised to visit Maximoff and make sure that her powers really were bound and that she wasn't doing anything to affect Clint from a distance. Strange had told Phil that there were some tests that he could run to see if Clint was being magically influenced by anyone else, but that he didn't think that was the case. That was also why a psychiatrist friend of Sam's was coming to visit the compound today.

One way or the other, Laura wanted her answers.

She finished brushing her hair and checked her make-up, then left the small room she'd been staying in alone and walked to the front lobby. Phil and Steve were already there waiting. Phil was talking on his phone, but Steve gave her a strained smile, which Laura returned. She didn't blame him for what had happened. She'd been there when Phil told him the truth. She'd seen the slow, dawning horror cross his face. No, Steve hadn't known what Maximoff was doing. He was just as much of a victim as anyone else was.

"Good morning," Laura said, giving Phil a kiss on the cheek. "Is Sam joining us?"

"He's on his way," Steve said, crossing his arms. He looked uncomfortable. "Where's Clint?"

Laura glanced at Phil, who said, "He's in his room right now. When I talked to him last night, he told me that he couldn't in good faith be around people who were brainwashed because he couldn't trust that we knew what we were doing."

Steve sighed. "That doesn't sound good. I was hoping that after a few days away from Wanda, he might start seeing the light."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy," Phil said quietly, wrapping an arm around Laura's shoulders. She leaned into him.

Sam and Strange showed up at the same time, though by different methods: Sam walked through the door, whereas Strange leapt out of a portal that formed from yellow and orange sparks. He straightened up, dusting off his robe, and said without preamble, "I have just been to visit the Xavier Institute. Maximoff's powers are bound. She doesn't have enough magic to lift a pencil, much less influence someone from hundreds of miles away."

"That's good to know," Phil said, though he didn't sound like it was a good thing. Laura understood why. If Maximoff were still influencing Clint, that would be an easy answer. The fact that she wasn't meant they had to keep looking.

Strange nodded. "Show me to Mr. Barton?"

"I'll wait here," Sam said. "Ashlynn should be here any minute."

"I'll wait with you," Steve said. He probably didn't want to see Clint, not that Laura could blame him. She wasn't exactly looking forward to it herself.

Phil led the way down to where Clint's room was located. He'd been spending most of his time in either his room or the gym, working on his aim. Phil paused before knocking and turned to Strange. "You should know that Clint may not be receptive to seeing you here. He associates you very strongly with Tony and thinks you've had something to do with what happened."

"I did," Strange said. "Open the door."

Phil shrugged at Laura and obeyed, knocking and then opening the door. "Clint? It's me."

"Hey babe," Clint said, coming out of the bathroom. His hair was damp, falling across his eyes because he needed a haircut, and he was smiling. "Hey cutie," he added, catching sight of Laura. For a moment, her heart ached because it was so close to how things used to be.

But then Clint caught sight of Strange, and his smile immediately fled. "What the fuck is he doing here?!"

"Clint, please," Phil said, holding up a hand. "Dr. Strange is here to help. He just wants to test you and make sure that there's no residual magic influencing you."

" _I'm_ not the one acting weird," Clint said hotly, glaring at Strange. "Why don't we get Wanda back here and have her test everyone and see what she says?"

"Because we know what she'd say," Phil said, as patiently as he could. "It won't hurt, and it'll only take a couple of minutes."

Clint backed up, shaking his head. "No way. I don't know what he whammied you guys with, but -"

"No one whammied us. It was Wanda who -"

"You don't _know_ that -"

"Please," Laura said, before they could really start yelling at each other. She crossed the room and reached for her husband's hand. The calluses on his fingers were so familiar she would've known his hand anywhere.

Clint glanced at her, started to say something, and then stopped. He looked pained as he whispered, "Laura..."

"I swear on our marriage that Dr. Strange won't do anything but check to see if you're under a spell," Laura said. "If you can't trust him" the implied 'or Tony' hung between them "then trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you or Phil. You know that. I know you know that."

He stared at her for several seconds, then sighed and bowed his head. "Fine."

Laura breathed a little easier, squeezing his hand in thanks. She kept holding Clint's hand as Strange took a step forward. He'd been quiet during their conversation, but now he began to murmur words in a language she couldn't understand. It made her ears throb to try. She focused instead on how sweaty Clint's palm was and the fear in Phil's eyes and the pounding of her own heart.

Strange splayed his fingers open wide suddenly and stopped chanting. Green mists sprayed from his fingers and washed over Clint. The mist clung where it touched him and turned a bright shade of gold; Clint's breathing picked up slightly and his grip on Laura's hand tightened, but he remained otherwise calm. For several seconds Clint was a bright golden figure in their midst before the mist slowly faded away.

"You are not under a spell of a curse, Mr. Barton," Strange said. "Your thoughts and opinions are your own."

Clint nodded, squaring his shoulders. "That's what I've been saying all along. But you should perform the same test on Laura and Phil. They're the ones who aren't thinking clearly."

"Perhaps later," Strange said and turned to leave the room. Phil hurried after him.

"I'll be right back," Laura said, walking quickly to the door. She thought that Clint might call her back, but he didn't. She closed the door gently and looked at the two men.

"That's it?" Phil was asking. 

Strange shrugged. "I'm not sure what else I can tell you, Coulson. It is as I said. No one is influencing him, although..."

"Although what?" Laura asked.

Strange was quiet for a long moment before he hesitantly spoke. "I could almost sense the taint of other magic. Very strong, very old magic, that happened before Maximoff."

Phil went pale. "Loki."

"The Trickster God?" For some reason, Strange smiled. "Yes, I've read about what happened when he attacked New York. I always wanted to have a word with him if he came back."

"He brainwashed Clint," Phil said. "With the power of his scepter. The scepter that gave Maximoff her powers. Could that be why...?"

"It's possible, but I think it's unlikely. As I said, this test would've revealed any magic that was still affecting Mr. Barton. Now, it is feasible that, because Mr. Barton had been brainwashed before, Maximoff's brainwashing affected him on a deeper level."

"What does that mean?" Laura asked, exchanging a frightened glance with Phil.

"I'm afraid I couldn't say," Strange said, sounding genuinely regretful. "I could only speak to whether or not he is or has been influenced by magic, and right now I can confirm that he is not. What effect the curse had on his psyche is a matter best answered by someone trained in the realm of the mind. I understand that you have a psychiatrist coming to visit?"

"Yes. She's going to talk to everyone," Phil said.

Strange nodded. "I have my own theories, but only she will be able to give you an answer. I'm sorry."

Phil closed his eyes briefly and sighed. Then he extended a hand for Strange to shake. "Thank you for confirming that much, at least. We appreciate it."

Laura slipped away, returning to Clint's room. He was just pulled a sweatshirt over his head. As the fabric slid down, his head popped out and he grinned at her. His hair was sticking up in all directions and Laura couldn't hold back a fond laugh, even as her chest felt heavier with all of the doubt and sorrow swirling through her. If only they could figure out some way to move past this: if only she could get her husbands back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashlynn Moore is my own creation. I am not trained in therapy and have never attended a therapy session, nor am I a psychologist or psychiatrist. I realize that a lot of this chapter is therefore wrong, and probably contains stuff that would never be asked about or addressed in therapy, but I did my best and, in any comments, ask you to respect that.

Clint didn’t know why he had agreed to this. Every bone in his body screamed that he was making the wrong choice by being here, and that he would’ve been better off telling Phil a flat-out no. But just like with Strange, Laura had looked at him with those big brown eyes and gently touched his hand and said ‘please’, and even now Clint couldn’t find it in himself to deny her anything.

He shifted uncomfortably, watching the psychiatrist from under his eyelashes. Her name was Dr. Ashlynn Moore, and according to Phil she had a lot of experience in working with agents. Clint struggled to remember whether he’d seen her around SHIELD before, but in all honesty he’d never paid much attention to the doctors who roamed the halls. The dark hair, woven back in a long braid, sparked a dim memory, but he couldn’t pull it forward.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Barton,” Moore said quietly. She had a nice voice, with a hint of an accent. European. Maybe French. Clint squinted at her, but the lines of her face gave nothing away. 

“I can’t say the same for you,” he said bluntly, figuring there was no need to mince words. “I don’t think I’m the one you should be talking to.”

She smiled. “You’ve had a traumatizing experience. Someone was messing around with your brain, even if you and your friends don’t agree on who that person was.”

That was true. Clint tipped his head to acknowledge it. “I got through it just fine last time it happened. SHEILD psych division signed me off and everything.”

“Yes, Agent Coulson gave me your file.”

“Why do you call him agent and not me?”

“I was under the impression that you had retired from active duty,” Moore said. 

Clint frowned. “I did.”

“Then you would no longer be considered an agent, correct?”

“I didn’t really retire though,” Clint said. He still lived in the compound. He still went on missions with the Avengers. Or he had. He hadn’t gone on the last one. He’d sat it out on purpose just to see what happened. Watching the resulting fuck-ups had been somewhat gratifying. 

“Because you didn’t want to?”

“Laura didn’t make me retire, if that’s what you’re implying. She and I have talked about it a lot. And when we lost Phil…” Clint trailed off. That had been one of the worst days of his life. Going home to Laura and their children and having to tell them that Phil was _never_ coming home had been terrible – and harder still because, in the aftermath of Loki’s destruction, Clint had been needed in New York.

Moore was still watching him, waiting for him to finish. Clint swallowed and said, “We mutually decided that I had given a lot during my time of service to SHIELD and the Avengers. Laura was concerned that the battles were getting worse. I wasn’t a sniper anymore, tucked off to the side, shooting from a distance. Most of the time I was right there in the middle of the action. You have to be when you’re an Avenger. She was worried that I wouldn’t come home, and I didn’t want to do that to her.”

“You’re a family man,” Moore said. She was making notes as she spoke, her tanned hand moving across the pad of paper. It was weird to see someone writing. Clint had gotten used to everything in his life being high tech. He didn’t even know if there were any pads of paper at the compound. Certainly there hadn’t been any at the tower.

“I am. I love my wife and my husband and my kids,” Clint said. He knew he sounded defensive and he didn’t like how it made him feel. “The time I spend at the compound is for them. It’s training and learning how to work with the team and be a better Avenger.”

“When was the last time you visited your home?” 

“It was…” Clint stopped, the automatic response dying a quick death when he realized he actually had to stop and think about it. He could remember the last time he’d _planned_ to visit. It had been the weekend before Lila’s birthday. Laura had specifically asked him to come home and he remembered agreeing and telling Steve that he wouldn’t be available.

But he’d never actually gone. Why? He frowned to himself before looking back at Moore. “I don’t like this line of questioning.”

Moore nodded. Annoyingly, her hand was still writing. He tried to crane his neck to peek, but she was holding the paper at just the right angle to prevent him from seeing. “Okay. We can talk about something else.”

“What if I don’t want to talk anymore?”

“That’s your choice, Mr. Barton. We can sit here quietly if you like. Or maybe we can talk about Ms. Maximoff.”

Clint strained to hear whether there was any contempt or disdain in her voice when she said Wanda’s name, but she sounded remarkably blasé considering the lies she must have been told. Suspicious, he said, “What do you want to know?”

“I haven’t had the chance to meet Ms. Maximoff,” Moore said. She shifted, rearranging her skirt, and smiled. “I’d like to hear your impression of her. It will help me build an image of her in my mind so that I’m better prepared when you and other people talk about her.”

That sounded fair. Clint cleared his throat. “Wanda’s a good kid. People look at the things she’s done in the past and think that she’s not, but they’re not being fair. We all make mistakes when we’re young and stupid and don’t know any better. She’s trying to change.”

“What has she done to change?” Moore asked.

“She’s learning a lot about controlling her powers,” Clint said, warming to the subject. It was easier to talk about Wanda than himself. “She’s been training with the team, figuring out how we work and how she can fit in with us. She and Natasha have bonded a lot. They even went shopping together. Natasha hasn’t done that in years. I even thought something might happen between her and Vision, though that was before Stark took Vision away.” 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that,” Moore said. “Vision left?”

“Stark made him leave,” Clint corrected.

“Why?”

“Because Stark’s an asshole and didn’t want Vision seeing things the way they really are. He wanted to hurt Wanda, and he knew she liked Vision, so he made Vision move back to New York and kept him from coming to visit us.”

“Couldn’t Wanda have gone to visit him?” 

“She’s just a kid! No kid of mine is going to wander New York City by themselves.”

Moore’s hand paused, and she looked up at him. “Mr. Barton, are you aware that you just implied that you think of Wanda as your child?”

Clint blinked at her, surprised. “Well… I mean, Wanda is a kid and I’m a father. It’s natural I would come to think of her that way,” he said, slightly uncomfortable.

“I was under the impression that Ms. Maximoff is twenty-two,” Moore said. “She’s legally an adult.”

“She’s still young,” Clint snapped. “Wanda needs to be _protected_. That’s what people don’t get.”

“If she needs to be protected, then why was she an Avenger? Didn’t that put her in more danger?”

“We kept her safe, Cap and I and the others. We never put her in a situation that she couldn’t handle. And we were always there. Wanda wanted to be an Avenger. She said it made her feel like she was atoning for her past mistakes. We couldn’t take that away from her.”

Moore nodded. She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “What about Tony Stark? Being an Avenger was taken away from him too, wasn’t it?”

“It’s not the same thing! Stark decided to retire because he couldn’t handle being a hero. Because he’s _not_ a hero and he never will be,” Clint spat. “Look at his history! His company dealt weapons on the black market for years. He’s got more red on his hands than Natasha and me put together. Not to mention he’s an idiot. He created Ultron! Even after everyone begged him not to, he still did it!” He was breathing hard by the end of it.

“But you think that Ms. Maximoff should be forgiven for her past mistakes. Why not Mr. Stark?”

Suddenly, Clint was on his feet. “How dare you compare them? Wanda is a _kid_. She made some mistakes. That’s all. Stark is a completely different story. You can’t call something like Ultron a mistake. You can’t call the murder of Wanda’s parents a _mistake_. Tony Stark is the scum of the Earth. He should never have been allowed onto the Avengers.”

“Mr. Barton, please sit down,” Moore said, very calmly. 

Clint took a deep breath and slowly sat, still glaring at her. “Wanda and Stark are nothing alike. Don’t you dare compare them,” he repeated. 

“Did you always feel this way about Mr. Stark? Why didn’t you object to his presence sooner?”

“We needed him. We needed his money. SHIELD didn’t have the funding to keep us going. Not like Stark did. And he creates good weapons, much as we hate to take anything from him. That’s about all he’s good for.” Clint rolled his eyes. “But after Ultron, we just couldn’t take having him around anymore. It wasn’t worth it. We’d put in the time necessary to get him to give us money and weapons for the field, so why subject ourselves to being around him more than we had to? I was glad when he stopped coming around.”

“And now?” Moore asked. She stopped writing and folded her hands, looking at him. Her eyes were dark brown. “How do you feel about him now?”

“I hate him,” Clint said clearly. “I hate everything about him. He’s brainwashed my wife and husband and the rest of the team to think there’s something wrong with Wanda. If I had the chance, I’d kill him.” He was surprised, for a moment, by the vehemence in his voice. But he just as quickly realized it was true.

“That’s a very strong opinion,” she noted. “Is there any possibility that maybe Ms. Maximoff has influenced you? That you were under a spell?”

“No. Wanda wouldn’t do that.”

“What if she didn’t realize that she was? As I understand it, mental magic is very difficult to control. You indicated that Ms. Maximoff was still learning control while she was here.”

Clint hesitated. That was true. Wanda had been learning while she lived in the compound. There had been a few slip-ups, too. Rhodes and Steve had been bruised black and blue one day when Wanda misjudged her force and sent both of them slamming into the wall instead of into the air like she’d planned. And there was also the time that she’d made Sam pass out for three hours by accident. 

“She wouldn’t,” he said again.

“But are you sure?” Moore asked. 

“Yes. I would have known if she had.”

“How?”

“I was brainwashed once before,” Clint said reluctantly. A chill broke out over his skin. He was suddenly very glad that Moore was dressed in neutral tones, not a hint of blue anywhere on her. After Loki, he could hardly stand the color – one more reason to hate Stark, who always had that obnoxious blue light shining out of his chest.

“By Loki,” Moore said.

“Yes. And I remember what it was like. I could see everything that was happening. It was like watching through a window. My body was moving and speaking, but I had no say in what was going on. I’ve never experienced anything else like that.”

“Ms. Maximoff is a different person. Her magic works differently by default,” Moore pointed out.

“I don’t care. That’s not what happened. I wasn’t brainwashed. Everyone else is.” Clint was, suddenly, exhausted. As quickly as his anger had come it was gone, leaving behind bone-deep weariness. He didn’t want to continue having this pointless conversation.

He stood up. “I’m done.”

If Moore was surprised, she didn’t show it. She stood too and reached out to shake his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Barton.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Clint muttered. He walked quickly to the door and opened it. He didn’t know if he was expecting to see anyone waiting for him, but he was relieved when the exterior room was empty. He passed through and into the hallway, automatically checking to see if Moore was following. She wasn’t, and the interior door was now closed. 

Clint stared at it for a long moment, going over their conversation again. She was good at getting him talking, he’d give her that much, but he wasn’t sure how well he’d done at convincing her that everyone else was brainwashed and he was the only sane one amongst them. He regretted not telling her his theory that being brainwashed once had made him immune to it happening again, but he didn’t want to go back in either.

Maybe she was under a spell too. That thought was troubling. Clint cast a suspicious look at the door. She hadn’t shown any indication that she was; her questions regarding Stark and Wanda had been carefully neutral, giving nothing away. If she stayed that way, he supposed he wouldn’t mind talking to her again if Phil and Laura insisted. But hopefully Moore would see the truth, and that wouldn’t be necessary.


	4. Chapter 4

Being around Moore made Steve uncomfortable, though he tried not to show it. He clenched his hands in his lap and stared at the floor to avoid looking directly at Coulson or Moore. He wasn’t really sure why they were having this conversation, but as soon as Moore had finished her conversation with Clint she’d marched into the dining hall and pulled Coulson aside. Next thing Steve knew, he was being hustled into the conference room and told to sit.

Coulson entered the room and pressed some buttons on the remote. The screen went from blank to crystal clear in the span of a second and Steve sat up straight, shocked speechless, at the sight of Tony Stark. It felt like it had been months since he’d seen Tony, even though it had only been a few weeks. Tony looked worse than before, if it was possible, exuding weariness even through a screen.

“Let’s get this over with,” Tony said, short and to the point. Even his voice was hoarse, like he’d been yelling. “What’s going on, Coulson?” He did not look at Steve, acting as though Coulson and Moore were the only person in the room.

“This is Dr. Ashlynn Moore,” Coulson said, indicating Moore. “She’s a psychiatrist who sat down and talked with Clint.”

“Hello, Mr. Stark,” Moore said.

Tony inclined his head slightly. “Dr. Moore. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Moore said. “I asked Agent Coulson if I could speak with you and Captain Rogers. It’s about Mr. Barton.”

“What about him?” Tony said warily.

“I had a session with Mr. Barton today and I was very concerned by some of the issues we talked about. In short, I believe that Mr. Barton is a direct threat to you, Mr. Stark.”

“What?” Steve said, stunned. He glanced at Tony and Coulson, expecting them to be equally surprised, but was met with two blank expressions. Coulson, at least, met Steve’s eyes. Tony was still pretending that Steve wasn’t there.

Moore turned to look at him. “Mr. Barton outright stated that he hated Mr. Stark and that if he had the chance, he would kill him.”

Oh god. Steve was glad he was sitting down because his knees got weak, and he might’ve fallen down if he wasn’t already seated. “He said that?”

“Yes. I have to report something like that to Mr. Barton’s supervisors, as well as Mr. Stark so that he can take the appropriate measures to protect himself. Mr. Stark, I would strongly advise that you limit contact with Mr. Barton from this point forward. If you can avoid seeing him in person, that would be best. I don’t know that Mr. Barton would be capable of stopping himself if he felt sufficiently provoked.”

“What are you saying?” Steve said before Tony could speak, leaning forward. “Clint wouldn’t hurt Tony.”

“I disagree,” Moore said bluntly. “Mr. Barton is in very deep denial right now. He can’t accept the truth of what happened with Ms. Maximoff. He’s latched onto Mr. Stark as the proverbial enemy and sees him as the orchestrator of everything that has gone wrong. Mr. Barton was a SHIELD agent and an Avenger. The only way he knows of handling an “enemy”” she put the word in finger quotes “is by killing them.”

Each word was like a blow. That wasn’t what the Avengers stood for. Steve just stared at her. 

“Is this because of Loki?” Coulson asked.

“I believe that’s when it began. I’ve looked at Mr. Barton’s files and I believe that SHIELD should never have signed off on his return to the field. Mr. Barton didn’t deal with the trauma of being brainwashed and everything that happened. He pushed it down and told himself that he was fine. That means he’s lacking the coping skills to deal with having been brainwashed again, especially by someone he trusted. He’s spun himself a story and is clinging to it desperately to avoid having to deal with reality.”

“And in this story, I’m a monster,” Tony said. Steve looked at him again. He knew Tony well enough to pick out the thread of grief in Tony’s voice.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Moore said. “I believe that, with time, I may be able to help Mr. Barton come to terms with what really happened. But as it stands, he is vilifying Mr. Stark and sees Ms. Maximoff as… well.” She frowned. “His opinions regarding Ms. Maximoff were conflicting. He simultaneously sees her as a child in need of protection and a capable Avenger who is atoning for her past mistakes.”

“Wanda wanted him to think of her as his daughter,” Coulson summed up.

“That would make the most sense. A father’s love for his children runs deep, and I’m making an educated guess that those complex emotions would be easier to play off of. As opposed to the rest of you, where she was merely a friend or teammate.” Moore paused. “However, without talking to Ms. Maximoff, I can’t know that for sure.”

“She won’t talk to you,” Steve said. He felt numb. He’d known that there was something wrong with Clint, but this was beyond anything he’d imagined. He realized he’d been thinking that Moore would sit down and talk to Clint and that would be it. Clint’s attitude would be resolved in the span of ten minutes and they could all move on. It was crushing to know that wasn’t the case.

Moore nodded. “I’m not surprised by that. Based on the footage I’ve reviewed, Ms. Maximoff has bought into her own lie. I don’t know what kind of procedures you have in place, but I strongly recommend that Mr. Barton not be allowed to contact Ms. Maximoff.”

“He’s not,” Coulson said. “I removed his phone when he wasn’t looking. He hasn’t asked about it yet. And I’ve instructed FRIDAY to make sure he doesn’t try to contact her in any other way.”

“I guess that means I won’t be visiting the compound anytime soon either,” Tony said. 

“We’ll talk,” Coulson said, looking at the screen. “But your safety comes first before anything else.”

Tony just nodded. “Give me a call when you have time.”

“Tony, wait!” Steve said, standing. “Please.”

“Thank you, Dr. Moore,” Tony said. He didn’t even _look_ at Steve, like he couldn’t hear what Steve was saying, like he didn’t even know Steve was there. It was maddening.

“I'm sorry you're mad. I just didn’t know how to tell you!” Steve burst out. “I wanted to, I swear. But I needed your help finding Bucky, and –” He stopped as the screen went blank. Tony had hung up on them. Frustration swelled through him and he slammed a hand down on the table. Why wouldn’t Tony listen? How could Steve apologize if Tony wouldn’t answer his calls or emails or texts? He scowled at the screen. 

“Tell him what?” Coulson asked, turning to face Steve fully.

Steve hesitated. “I’m not sure –”

“Steve.” There was no getting around that commanding tone. Steve swallowed.

“Natasha and I found out that the Winter Soldier had killed the Starks,” he admitted. Saying it out loud to someone other than Tony or Natasha was a relief. He’d been carrying this secret for a long time. “Natasha expected me to tell Tony about it, but I could never find the right time. She made me swear I would before she left, so I called Tony up and –”

“You told him _over the phone_?!” Coulson said.

“I didn’t have a choice! Tony wasn’t coming to the compound. I figured Rhodes would punch me again if I showed up at the tower.” It sounded like he was whining, but Steve wasn’t. He just wanted to make someone understand.

Moore’s face was blank, but Coulson looked horrified. “I can’t believe you.”

“Tony already knew. Bucky told him. It wasn’t like I was giving him brand new information,” Steve said defensively.

Coulson just stared at him, then slowly shook his head and looked at Moore. “It’s become very clear to me that we are in desperate need of a qualified psychiatrist. If you’re willing, we would happily make you an offer to retain your services for the next several months.”

“I think that would be best,” Moore said. “I hope you’ll be willing to speak with me.” She looked directly at Steve. He couldn’t help bristling. He might've told Sam that he would do it because he wanted to do right by the team and set a good example, but now that he was being confronted with the idea he didn't know if he could stomach it. No matter what anyone said, Steve Rogers was not crazy.

Loads of things had changed while he was in the ice. But things like the concept of mental health were the ones Steve had the most difficulty wrapping his head around. When he grew up, people didn’t sit and talk about their feelings. They got on with it like real men, coping however they needed to. So he didn’t know if he liked the idea of spilling all his woes to some stranger. 

“He will,” Coulson said firmly. “Or he will be benched indeterminately until he does.”

“What? You can’t do that!” Steve exclaimed.

“Actually, I can. You willingly stepped down from the Avengers and dumped control into Tony’s hands. Tony, in turn, asked for my help. You won’t be allowed back on the team until Tony and I are in full agreement that you’re ready for that. Part of that will mean a full psych evaluation by a qualified professional. In this case, Dr. Moore. I’m sure Tony will agree with my recommendation of putting her in charge of the evaluations.”

“But I don’t hate Tony. I’m not a threat to him. I just needed a couple weeks to get my head on straight. I’ll be fine after that,” Steve said.

“Therapy isn’t just because you hate someone,” Moore told him. “You’ve been through a traumatic experience – several, in fact, if I’m understanding correctly. You can’t push these kinds of things down. They always emerge at a later date, and are often more ugly and vicious for having been repressed."

It was hard to dispute that considering what Moore had said about Clint and Loki. Steve set his jaw. "Fine. One session."

"To start," Coulson said. "An evaluation. We'll all be going through it. But if Dr. Moore decides you need more than that, you _will_ be attending."

Steve glared at him. "What about Tony? And Vision? And you?"

"What about them?"

"Will they have to attend?"

"Yes, we will," Coulson said, which surprised Steve. "Don't worry about Tony, Vision or Rhodes. They are well taken off. In fact, I want your promise that you'll stop attempting to contact Tony until you're told otherwise."

"But how will I be able to apologize if I can't talk to him?"

"Maybe Tony doesn't want your apology right now," Coulson said. He stood. "I'll leave this in your hands, Dr. Moore. Steve." He nodded and made his way out of the room.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve said, looking to Moore.

"It means that sometimes people apologize because they want to feel better, not because they're actually sorry for what they did," Moore said. "Or because they think that apologizing will reset the status quo and make the person they're apologizing to forget about their misdeeds. Or because they feel pressured and think other people will see them in a better light. Or because they don't know how to apologize, and often times a half-hearted or twisted apology will make a situation worse."

"Half-hearted?" Steve repeated.

She looked him in the eye. "Consider that you told Mr. Stark you were sorry he was angry. To me, it sounded as though you were apologizing for Mr. Stark's _reaction_ , not for what you actually did."

"That's not what I meant!"

"But that's what Mr. Stark heard," Moore said patiently. "People can recognize true repentance when they hear it, Captain. Unless you're truly sorry for not telling Mr. Stark the truth, I wouldn't suggest apologizing again. It will make your relationship worse, not better."

Steve opened and then closed his mouth without speaking. He didn't know what to say. He wanted Tony's forgiveness, but was he sorry that he hadn't told Tony the truth? In his heart, he knew that he wasn't. Not when it meant there was a small chance that Tony would've retracted his offer to help track the Winter Soldier down. Bucky was too important for that.

When the silence dragged on, Moore nodded. "Another word of advice. If the only reason you're apologizing is to obtain forgiveness, I wouldn't. You may never get it."

"Even if I figure out how to mean it?" Steve said.

"No one is owed forgiveness for anything," Moore said. "Now, when are you available for our first session?"

Steve blinked at her, momentarily phased by the abrupt subject change, then shook his head. "Uh, whenever? I usually work go for a run and work out first thing in the morning, but other than that my days are pretty open right now."

"I'll schedule you for tomorrow afternoon at 2pm. Please don't be late." She took her phone out of her pocket and bowed her head over it. Steve stood there for a moment longer, then realized their discussion was over. He left the room, mind spinning.

Moore had to be wrong. Even if Steve could never drum up any real regret over not having told the truth earlier, there _had_ to be a way to fix things with Tony. It was for the good of the team. And besides, Steve couldn't let go of the hope that someday things might still go in the same direction they'd been headed before SHIELD fell and Ultron and Wanda came into the picture. Imagining a future where he and Tony were together was one of the only things that helped him to fall sleep at night.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing himself. Okay. He had a new mission now. In retrospect, he could see that taking himself off the team had been a stupid move. If they were still teammates, Tony wouldn't be able to ignore him; they'd have to speak, at least on missions. So step one was getting through this session(s) with Moore and obtaining approval to get back on the team. Steve would figure out the rest of the plan once he'd done that.

He was Captain America. He could do anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more to the series, but not for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
